Cold Utopia
by Fen-crya
Summary: A little insight on Frieza's feelings toward Vegeta throughout the Prince's life since he'd been in the Tyrant's 'care'. I believe their relationship goes much deeper than what is being let on. Fieza/Vegeta  Drabble


**Cold Utopia**

By Fen-crya

**Rating:** T-ish

**Pairing: **Frieza/Vegeta

**Disclaimer**: I do not own, nor do I attempt to own, the characters from Akira Toriyama's DragonBall ( Z and GT included ) series.

**N/A: **It's SUPPOSE to be a drabble thing, so expect some choppiness, but eh, I'm no good at drabbles. Beware, for this is very shit-ily made.

**HOLY SHIT NEWS:** I got a Frieza plushie today at Tekkoshocon. I..AM..STOKED.

I am however, _not_ so stoked about the fact that I'm going to miss the 'How NOT to write yaoi fanfiction' panel tonight, as my boredom at the convention led me to leaving early. Like, seriously, having a convention in that hotel was a bad idea. There was no room to even stop cosplayers for pics without making everyone else angry, or get into a panel or room because there was no damn room. The elevators were so packed all the time that you had to wait 10+ minutes just for _one_ to get to you, and they were usually _always_ full. And the emergency staircase was so narrow it was super hard to get to the floor you needed to get to, and the main one didn't even go to the damn rooms. Man, I just had a difficult time. I missed the Yu-Gi-Oh! photoshoot too...

THE CONVENTION HAD BETTER BE AT THE DAVID LAWRENCE CONVENTION CENTER NEXT YEAR IS ALL I HAVE TO SAY. Or my ass is staying home. -Not amused-

/Rant

**Error Status**: Still have no Beta Reader. Expect errors. : /

**x-x-x-x-x**

To Frieza, there is nothing better than what is standing right in front of him. He's created a utopia that he and only himself can enjoy. It's a perfect world for him and his prince, where nothing can disturb this warped sense of relations they have. Barely tall enough to reach Zarbon's waist, the tiny prince is the sparkle in the elder tyrant's eye. When those ebony eyes come up from the floor there's something in that stare that never fails to melt a little more of the ice encasing Frieza's heart. The prince can not see it, but Frieza can feel it.

There have been times when Frieza's authority over the prince has been threatened. He's been told he has no real hold over the prince. But to Frieza, young Vegeta has been his from the moment he first glanced his way on Planet Vegeta. The tyrant had asked for the prince, expecting nothing other than obedience. The Saiyans in the royal court grew furious, and demanded that Frieza leave their planet. They spoke of not wanting their beloved prince to stay clear of anything that might taint his pure power. They couldn't bare the thought of Frieza raising the boy to kill his own people. But they feared it would be just as so, if Frieza had his way.

The Saiyans could be big-headed, but they knew better. Frieza knew this when he send a burst of energy flying through the palace walls, and readied another deadly blast, aiming it close to the King's heart. Nonchalantly, Frieza felt the need to remind them of his control over them, and of just how strong he was. He wouldn't hesitate in killing more of the Saiyans if it meant getting the task at hand done. And as demonstration, an entire squadron of elite soldiers was reduced to pieces of fluttering debris. Frieza claimed their planet to be next.

The King obliged afterwards, offering his toddler son as a peace treaty in order to ensure the life of his people.

But the King was too foolhardy. He tried to take back what he'd already given to the icy lizard, and in return for his attempted theft on Frieza's most prized possession he received death. Prince Vegeta remained oblivious, forced to believe only what Frieza told him. The prince was too young to truly understand what it meant to be a tool for someone else's purpose, but he understood the training and fighting Frieza spoiled his saiyan lust with, understood the words of encouragement when he'd done something to please. He still holds hope that by pleasing his cold hearted master he can be allowed to somehow see his father again. The child prince refuses to believe his only hope and guardian is gone forever, left to remain on a planet without a son to take the throne. He still holds on with a false hope that he will return home one day to a place where he can mature into a great king and be surrounded by those who love and respect him. Just like his father, he wishes to be immaculate in both strength and intelligence.

Frieza begins to see the remorse setting behind his prince's eyes. He's decided to occupy the child's greater thoughts so that he won't have to hold such a torn expression when in his presence. He illustrates with words and demonstrative actions what he wishes his prince to do for him from now on, and just _how_ he wants his planets purged. And because Prince Vegeta does not understand right from wrong, he complies. He only understands what Frieza explains and demonstrates for him, and not what he should be doing otherwise. His only goal is to get back home, whatever the cost.

At times when his new life beats him lower than the platform underneath him, he wants to cry and beg Frieza to bring his father to him. But to do so means he is giving in. He wants to sob until his heart gives out and forces him to sleep, but that would only show weakness. He mustn't be so weak hearted, but blood thirsty. It is the proud path of a Saiyan that he must take. And it is a road without tears.

Then, without warning, his whole world came crashing down. Planet Vegeta had burst, and along with it everything he'd ever known. It shook his mind with such force that when he was first given the news he was too shocked to even look minutely depressed. He just sat there, entranced. It wasn't until later, when his days grew more harsh and unforgiving, that it really sunk in. He was _never_ going home. And somehow, he feels Frieza himself is to blame.

He became distraught. But emotions only make you weak. Frieza taught him that through humiliation. And true warriors do not have weakness; only strength. So the prince sets his heartache aside and fills the emptiness with self hatred. After all, it's because of his own weakness that his people have become a dead race. If he had been stronger, he could have slain Frieza and saved his people from their imminent destruction.

He is told he can be worthless, and not worthy of the lavishness of a good meal and a warm place to sleep. It's in those times that the young saiyan nods and accepts the punishments for his failures, but inwardly caves at the thought of what he's about to endure. He's livid and starved, cursing how unjustifiable it was to be punished for accomplishing something half his army could not. But, Frieza is never wrong. It's a phrase repeated constantly to him. The Prince is weak.

And so he is destined to fight in pursuit of strength. He wants to be able to withstand the punishments with a solid face and prove that he can not be swayed. He wants to show determination when faced with fear. Likewise, Frieza coaxes it from him. He wants him to become stronger so that he may stand closer at his side. But he does not know of his young one's inner evils. He allows him his thoughts for now.

_**x-x**_

Even as his strength increases, the Prince can hardly defend himself against Frieza's henchmen. They've been his biggest plateau since he's boarded the ship. He doesn't go looking for trouble, but _they_ do. The prince has been caught in their line of sight on more than one occasion. And it never ends well. But he never runs. He stays and fights for what it's worth just to prove some semblance of his pride.

No matter what happens behind Frieza's eyes, it's always acknowledged later. And the prince grins with the knowledge that these petty creature will get what's coming to them when Frieza finds out they've been going out of their way to disobey his orders. It's a small, worded victory, but it brings a sense of security none the less that he will not die during the encounter.

"Your face is bruised." Punishment that has been dealt without Frieza's acknowledgement is something that he greatly dislikes. The prince only receives punishment when he's gone out of line with his words, if he's gone against Frieza's requests, or if he's stepped over the line of obedience. But of course there are others aboard the ship that hold more power over the saiyan child, and they like to show it.

Frieza reaches out to touch the swollen cheek. The bruise overlays into the corner of the child's mouth like a morose disease that's already begun to eat away at his flesh. It's filled with lovely shades of purple and pink. "Who's done this?"

His prince turns his fretful eyes to the floor below. Taking in a huffed breath, he feels humiliation heat his face. "Guldo." He's been beaten again by that little shit. He's tasted the cold metal of the ship floors once again. And all that he can hear are the echoing laughs of the temporarily stationed Ginyu Force ringing in his head.

Frieza is furious, though he does not show it. The Ginyu Force ensures a swift victory during any battle. And Frieza has called for their assistance on more than once occasion when he's intent on them taking the place of the saiyan's missions, for whatever reason. But to intentionally place harm upon his prince…Frieza can not allow such a thing.

"It's just a scratch— I can barely feel it," the prince tries to explain before the tyrant can defend him. Frieza can easily tell the boy is trying to mend together his cracking pride. "The likes of him is _nothing_ compared to me. He may have managed to hit me _this_ time, but it would take a lot more than that weak punch to take _me_ down."

Frieza can't help but smile. He takes the boy's face in his hands and ponders the sudden innocence he's seeing in those dark eyes. Such fire and arrogance is a truly beautiful thing. The prince has never backed down, even when he's clearly outmatched. It's something Frieza adores about the young Saiyan.

"Is that so?"

He finds the sudden urge to nuzzle the boy's cheek, to show just how much he enjoys that haughty little attitude of his. But it feels unfitting somehow. His prince deserves more than a tiny physical semblance of appreciation.

"I'll see to it that Guldo is reminded of his place here on my ship, you can be sure, My Prince."

Prince Vegeta flinches at the possessive form of his name. But he says nothing in humiliating fear that whatever comes out of his mouth will be the wrong thing to say, and he will be without a meal once again. He struggles with his inner thoughts and feigns contentment, when really he feels nothing but embarrassment with knowing Frieza will be the one to avenge him. _He_ should be the one to put Guldo in his place, _not_ Frieza. But at this stage, he can't prove himself. He can only stand by and hope that Frieza will either order a punishment or grant him time to train so that he can grow stronger.

In times like these, when Frieza is waiting for a response, young Vegeta does not know what to say. The prince can feel him waiting. But he's usually at a loss for words. He does not thank anyone— let alone Frieza. What else can he say that might appease him?

"…I look forward to seeing it…Lord Frieza."

Frieza's grin broadened. He looked proud, even has his tongue snakes out to run along his lower lip. Vegeta's young mind could comprehend nothing but the action in itself. "I would have it no other way, My Prince."

The prince is told he will be given twice the pounds in food as he's normally given at this time in the evening, something that the saiyan struggles against himself to be able to control his excitement. He's usually only given what the rest of the crew can stomach, which is, by every means, a snack compared to what any Saiyan would need to keep them out of malnourishment. Vegeta knows what it feels like to have his stomach turn in on itself when the minimal food is gone and he's without any. He knows the agony of starvation when he's away from Frieza and on a nearly deserted planet, dressed to conquer. It's what has fueled him into cannibalism when he has no other choice. He's not necessarily proud of it, but it's something that must be done to keep him alive.

It is here after Prince Vegeta is dismissed from Frieza's audience, that he all but runs to his room. His duties are over, he can eat within the privacy of his own quarters, and he can take a moment to let the food settle before he's back at his training. And best of all, he doesn't even have to order the food himself. Frieza makes sure someone brings him his morsels. It's a little spoilage on Frieza's part, but the tyrant can't deny the glee he sees in the young one's face when the food arrives. The tyrant stays well hidden as remains to creep on him.

This form of stalking is the only way he can properly witness the prince's true emotions, unbridled. He rather likes seeing them through childish eyes when he graces the prince with a particularly good reward for his deeds.

"Stunning," He always purrs into the corner of his ship walls, his bony fingers stroking the edge like they might a pet in his lap. He can think of nothing else that would please him more than that child's face, and all those delightful expressions. Devious thoughts of sadism would always creep into his actions at a time like this, when he's let his hospitality slip. It's a pleasure he's indulged in from time to time when his prince is at his most joyous high. He can't say why, but it brings him the most pleasure to be the one to rip that joy away. He labels it; love. Maybe not the most endearing kind, but it's a love none the less. And as always it makes him do such sadistically pleasing things to the saiyan child he's taken in.

Like now for instance, when his belly is full to his chin with warm food and he's asleep beside his bed. He looks so peaceful and content now. But Frieza knows, with some sort of sick pleasure, that his pet will soon be abruptly jostled into consciousness when he becomes ill from the tasteless poison that's been placed in his food. It's only a matter of time. And when the time comes, he'll stand by and watch his prince's whimpering through his stomach turmoil, groaning for someone to be at his side.

Ah, so much for hospitality. Frieza just can't help himself. Getting to witness a fretful, heaving prince is a delicacy among all others, he's sure. And nothing quite tops that look of total misery when the Prince is at his palest. It's one of the only times he can break him down to such raw emotions.

"Simply stunning."

_**x-x**_

Alone and finally well in his makeshift room, the Prince is able to collect his thoughts after a particularly difficult retrieval mission. He's fighting the tears that threaten to fall after the emotional damage of what's been said to him, of the harsh and condescending words he's been forced to endure by Dodoria and Zarbon while in Frieza's audience. His father is gone; his home planet destroyed. He's been told for years that it was a horrible accident caused by an enlarged meteorite. Frieza is always such a good story teller. And Vegeta tries to believe him whole heartedly while his young mind still can. It's all he can do to keep the hysterics within and not have to face a fact that he's not ready to realize.

He doesn't want to believe that all he's lived for is gone, and that he has nothing left but what he's lived with under Frieza as 'Home'. His planet's destruction was an accident…and nothing more. Frieza only felt compelled to tell the prince because he cherished him so much. That's what young Vegeta kept telling himself. _It was just an accident._

But his mind is swayed as the years roll by him, and both Dodoria and Zarbon poke harder at the facts.

"Hah! A runt like you wouldn't even stand a chance! You couldn't even protect your pathetic excuse of a planet! Some prince _you_ are."

The prince saw red, but it was replaced with a more mellow oceanic color. He could smell the lingering tastes of food left in Zarbon's mouth while he spoke so close to his level. And ugh, what _had_ he been eating?

"A pathetic race, more like. Good riddance on the little monkeys."

They both pondered the prince's tempered face. A grin came to their own.

"You know," Zarbon spoke up. "Frieza _has_ been less aggravated since those disruptive Saiyans…_blew up_."

Dodoria caught on quick with a small chuckle. "That's right. He was the first one to know, wasn't he?"

"I'm sure he's rather pleased those weak creatures are good and _dead_."

The prince, now a little taller with age, is furious by the conversation amongst the two of them. They've begun to go on like this a lot in the more recent years with their teasing and taunting. Both parties seem to know Vegeta's inability to win against such a higher power, and it's the bigger of the two parties that likes to prove the theory.

The prince is told countless times that he is weak and unsound, only fit to be Frieza's pet. He works hard to prove them wrong. But nothing ever seems to go right for him. He's barely gained an inch in the past two years since his initial growth spurt, which left him at a staggering 4'3". The insufficiency in his regular diet might be to blame, but the prince finds it hard to believe that such an insignificant thing could cause this much of a stunt in his growth. He assumes it's only a slow process, and that someday soon he will be closer to 5'9" or beyond like his two Saiyan comrades.

Later in the years he's still below 5'0". All the curse words in the universe couldn't adequately explain his anger over the situation. How was he supposed to avenge his people when he barely looked threatening? Most who have known him since he was a child began to tease him about his height. The prince grew bitter about the situation and began lashing out at anyone who decided to take a stab at his ego. _He_ was the Prince of Saiyans, _he_ was heir to the throne of a great race, and _he_ would _not_ tolerate such insolence against his image. Height and strength be damned—_ he would be a legend!_

"Mark my words and wait for the day I murder you and all you stand for in your pathetic existence," he would seethe out of rage.

He never saw it coming, but his sanity began to slip. His fellow Saiyans saw it though. They were just helpless to stop it. Vegeta was too caught up in trying to prove himself— too worried about keeping his pride free of humiliation to realize the damage he was causing himself. His demeanor was cracking, and slowly, he became a violent youth that hated everything.

Soon after his many encounters with Qui, an alien who never failed in causing the prince trouble, Prince Vegeta had begun to announce his self proclaimed hatred for his own _'weak'_ race, and blaming his father for his abandonment in the process. He swore it was everyone else's fault but his own, and that he was only here by happenstance. If his father had not been so weak, he would not have given up so easily. And that's just how Vegeta saw it. His father had given him up just because he feared Frieza, just given his heir to the throne away like some useless warrior. Vegeta likes to remind everyone that he doesn't care about how he ended up on Frieza's ship but, inwardly, there's a child crying out to ask why his father must have felt so little of him to put him in Frieza's care.

The prince was often caught contradicting himself. Sometimes he would try and glorify his race by doting on how powerful they were, while at times he condemned them with hatred at how weak they'd been to have been destroyed so easily.

He tried to hide under his anger, but anyone could see that he was clearly upset. Although, Raditz had to give him credit for not crying anymore. He hadn't even seen him glassy-eyed in over seven years, even though he never faulted the young Prince for his tears. The prince had lost more than any of them ever had when their planet, along with their race, had been wiped from the universe. Besides, their prince hadn't been the only one to shed tears over that day.

_It's not so bad, once you get used to it, _Nappa used to say in regards to their new lifestyle. _At least we still get to fight._

Hah, Vegeta didn't even care. It wasn't even _about_ the fighting anymore. It was about his pride.

Nappa and Raditz would take turns in trying to cheer the malevolent prince up once in a while when that grimace got too sharp. But it was always met with, "Shut up, you imbecile! I don't care!" or "Don't you ever have anything useful to say?"

Frieza got his wish. The prince was becoming so cold at heart and so sick in the mind that the presence of his comrades didn't even phase him. Both Napa and Raditz were sure that one day, they too would be a victim of Frieza's wrath. Only, that ultimate punishment would be by Vegeta's hand, and only reflected by the mirror of a face that raised him.

It was inevitable. And the damage was irreversible.

_**x-x**_

It's a hard truth that Frieza is only a thing possessed. He's captivated by the growing prince. And everything he's done, he's done for _him_. He's murdered the King of the Saiyans to ensure his own leash around his prince. The entire Saiyan race, along with their planet, has been crushed to galaxy dust if only to promise that no other Saiyan could ever lessen the bond he has with him. No saiyan could ever overthrow him and tear him from his prince now.

Although still a relative child by saiyan standards, his strength is vastly larger than any thus far. Frieza wants to make sure he can keep it stably under his control. He also wants his prince to keep that childlike stature. He wants to keep that childlike beauty in the prince, so that he doesn't grow into one of the many ugly creatures that had roamed the saiyan planet.

He attempts what is hidden in an experiment over his prince in hopes to achieve his plans. Through altered DNA in the tanks and chemically unsound food, he's been attempting to biogenetically stunt the saiyan's growth. He is pleased with the creature he is shaping and, day by day, he watches the once innocently arrogant child grow into something a little more alluring. To his greatest delight, it seems a little more of the prince's energy has been capped by his size. Although Frieza is aware of Vegeta's growing strength, it has been slowed immensely. It's a step in progress that is hard to ignore.

Not only will Vegeta remain relatively small in accordance to Frieza's liking, but his power should also remain stunted. Like pressure to fill a bottle but with no more room to grow, there is now a very specific limit placed within him, and should he go beyond it would be his death. Now, his body is what truly cripples him. And Frieza knows that even as he continues to grow, and grow frustrated at his slow progressions, he will never realize that it is because he is small that he is unable to excel beyond what he wishes. Frieza feels too giddy for words at the accomplishment.

The Prince himself does not realize the evil intent behind the simple hospitality given to him, but only knows that it's his father he should have been following. To him, Frieza has him hostage, and he can only obey like a dog in training. He's not yet realized what internal damage has been done to him, as well as mental. He's too busy with his anger and revenge to see just how slow his progression is to killing Frieza and taking back his freedom.

Maybe if he'd learn to calm his mind and focus a little more, he would have understood just _why_ he began to receive more food, or why he was given so many more trips to the rejuvenation tank. But no— he remains oblivious. He's content to know that Frieza won't let him die, even when Frieza himself is dealing the damage.

Frieza does not intentionally hurt him, and even defends him on many occasions. The growing prince does not see this as anything other than favoritism. It's only until he matures that his mind starts to believe otherwise.

_**x-x .Current Day: Unknown x-x**_

The years pass, and Frieza's possessiveness lessens some. Maybe he feels less threatened by the boy in front of him. Vegeta is unsure.

"You've grown into quite the exquisite creature, Vegeta." Frieza is pivoting his hand in a circular motion so that the liquid in his glass sways. It is here that the tyrant may fully observe the fine lines of this altered creature. After all his tweaking, Frieza is finally able to ponder his work over the prince.

He is still relatively small in height, with his waist and legs shorter than most. And while he's gained a decent amount of muscle it doesn't ruin the slender physique of him as a whole. Maybe it's because he's still retained some of those youthful curves in his face he used to have as a child.

"Turn around."

A new side of the tyrant emerges with the Prince's newly developing body. All those muscles so perfectly aligned and not a single bone out of place. "Move that unsightly thing from around your waist." But secretly, he enjoys its aesthetics. He merely wishes to see the curve of his spine beneath all that almond fur. It's subtle, but it matches all too perfectly with the movement of his backside. He has such nice, sharp shoulder blades, Frieza realizes. They lace in perfectly with the muscle and bone covering his upper half.

"Right," he realizes his success aloud, earning an invisible questioning glance from the being under his inspection. "You may turn and face me."

With a grunt of haughty acknowledgement, the prince does as he is asked. He doesn't bother with wrapping his tail back around his waist. He believes it to be a clear sign that he's not intimidated by the other. He can see Frieza taking it into notice already.

Frieza already has his head high, glass even higher. "And how was the trip?"

Vegeta swallowed a little harder than he would have liked, his facial expression a soft grimace at the current penetrative stare he's receiving. "They surrendered within twelve days."

"Oooo," Frieza seemed genuinely delighted. "So quick, and I have only _you_ to congratulate. I'm sure you're proud of your accomplishments?"

"Of course," he uttered faintly, muttering a quick word of loyalty somewhere into the mix under his breath. "Did you expect anything less than perfection when you sent me to that worthless planet?" He replaced his grimace with a grin of pure pride, his face beaming with his boastfulness.

But Frieza only shrugged. "You could have done so a tad bit faster."

Vegeta let a halted gasp push past his tongue. Frieza was taunting him. Both of them knew it. If the other's darkened grin over that stain-free glass wasn't enough, then not much more could be said. "That—…" He was seething.

"Now, now dear prince, there's no need to throw a fuss." Frieza swayed his finger before him. "I never said you didn't fulfill my wishes. I did, however expect more from you."

For a moment, Vegeta thought for sure Frieza was merely playing another one of hid mind games. Frieza had already set his glass down onto the flatness of his monitor board panel and was fixing to free himself of his favored transport. The saiyan could feel a sense of tense anxiety in the air, and wondered if it was his own. Frieza was being too professional with himself, his actions that followed too slowly for comfort. Vegeta was left to wait in silence until finally Frieza made his way to him. By now, they were almost exactly the same height. It was a little sickening.

"I realize I can not make a monkey turn into an ape. But I _do_ expect you to be great." Cold fingers rested on his arm. "Don't you agree?"

Vegeta had to steady his quivering jaw, finding the pale touch a little more than unsettling. He cleared his throat, trying desperately to keep his unwavering eye contact without giving in to the urge to look away. Frieza had such a fire in his eyes. And Vegeta couldn't place what it meant.

He let out a grunt of pain when the others nails dug into an open wound on the back of his forearm.

"You've been wounded." _Thank you, Captain-fucking-Obvious._ "Why did you not inform me? I would have prepared the medical ward for your arrival."

"It's not necessary. It's just a minor wound."

It always on days like this, when Frieza sees his prince with an infliction and blood, that something stirs inside him. He begins to wonder who or what had caused the wound, and if his prince had screamed or not.

"Minor or not it is still your duty to alert me of such things." Frieza brought his thumb to his lips, now coated in saiyan blood, and licked it clean without breaking eye contact. Vegeta couldn't help but swallow a bit of his own bile down. He was debating on whether or not he should chance a smart ass comment, wondering which way Frieza would handle it. He almost felt he _had_ to, given the awkward situation.

"Do excuse me for not letting the entire universe know I managed a _scratch_ on my arm."

A visible shiver ran through the tyrant, his crimson eyes shading darker. He sighed, deep and thoughtful. It ended with a chuckle. "I suppose you think that being _cute_ will grant you a way out of punishment?"

Frieza grinned wickedly. "Not likely, my dear prince."

When Frieza takes a step forward, the prince takes a step back. It's automatic, and Vegeta can not help it until he is backed against the wall. Here, Frieza allows himself to come nearly flush up against his prey, eyeing him deviously. He does so love to make him uncomfortable. "You've grown, Vegeta. You're not the same brat I remember from some time ago."

_Funny, you're still the same effeminate little lizard prick I've always known. _

"I'm curious to know how your body has changed."

"I'm the same, only taller." The words came out so fast, Vegeta almost slurred them. Wherever this was going, he didn't like it.

"Really?" Frieza could sense the embarrassment in his face. It only enhanced tenfold when Frieza backed off long enough to summon Dodoria and Zarbon, along with the prince's bodyguards, Nappa and Radditz into the room.

Frieza returned to his seat and lifted his glass, taking a sip and glancing around this new audience. He pinpointed his eyes straight at the prince who'd since stood more firmly away from the wall.

"Remove your clothes."

And thus the humiliation continues. Vegeta is red in the face with shame as he stands there, unable to lift a hand to unclothe himself. He can only think of who is surrounding him.

"I'm sorry, did I stutter, Vegeta? I thought I gave you an order."

The damage to his pride will never cease. It will continue until the day the prince dies. Or so he believes. And it's what shapes him. In the end he always complies, because he has nothing left but to follow orders and hope that his pride can still remain.

It's all he has, and something that Frieza has yet to take away. But someday, maybe _that_ will change as well.

_**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**_

**A/N:** This got awkward, you understaaaaaaaand?

Got a little sexual towards the end thur. So I clipped it to keep it a drabble…type…thing. I was seriously starting to write this fuck-fest between all in the room, while Frieza gave orders and watched.

THE FXCK.

BORING DRABBLE IS BORING.


End file.
